Garrett Ashley Our producer, Mark, has volunteered himself to wear the anthrax gloves, tearing open the envelope at an angle
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Garrett Ashley Our producer, Mark, has volunteered himself to wear the anthrax gloves, tearing open the envelope at an angle
Continue readingMingwei Yeoh I started hating the word wait when Lou Gramm started singing it nonstop, his honey tenor fried to
Continue readingBryce Ingmire Rightfully, they were proud of their art. Proud, but not smug —smugness comes later with adulthood. For now,
Continue readingJoanna Acevedo Last August I went on a double date with my friend Abby and her new boyfriend and a
Continue readingSvetlana Turetskaya When Jim, her ex-husband, sent her a package with some “old things,” she was not surprised, for he
Continue readingLaine Perry I had become the teacher’s pet by default. The rest of the kids were idiots. A few may
Continue readingSwetha Amit When I got home from work, I found Ma running out of the front door, naked and dripping
Continue readingSarah Banse Mario, the landlord, a short thick man with a heavy Italian accent, rehabbed the apartment before we moved
Continue readingNicole Walker There’s a line in Jenny Lewis’s song Just One of the Guys that goes something like “No matter
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